Subtext
by Remma
Summary: Chryed. They argue, they make up, they have sex. Same old same old.


Subtext, by Remma

"Go ahead, Syed, tell me _again_ how in love you and Amira are. It has to be at _least_ three days since the last time you hunted me down to let me know that you and your wife are 'doing it' like minks."

"That's…I…look, I'm making the marriage work. If you can't handle that, then…"

"I'm not the one with the problem."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, Syed, that a man who is blissfully happy with his wife, a man who is both emotionally and physically fulfilled, does _not _goconstantly out of his way to tell his ex, for whom he claims to feel nothing but friendship, _every single detail _of his sex life."

"That's not fair. I just want everything straight between us so that we can be friends."

"Right. Straight. Interesting word choice."

"Go ahead, make a joke of it. Make a joke of everything. That's what you do, isn't it? You just can't help yourself."

"This _is_ a joke, Syed, and I've had enough of it. Maybe we should forget about the friendship, because obviously, you can't handle it."

"_I_ can't handle it? All I've been trying to do is make it clear to you that friendship is _all_ we can have now that I'm married. I'm with _Amira_. I love her. _She's_ the one I want."

Deliberately invading Syed's space, Christian brought his lips close against Syed's ear, whispering. " Oh really? You want Amira? So tell me, Syed, does your mouth go dry, do you get short of breath, does it take every ounce of self control you possess to keep yourself from grabbing her and having your wicked way with her, right there, right then, no matter who might be watching whenever she stands as close to you as I'm standing now? Or does that only happen with me?"

Syed tried to get his brain back in gear and his mouth closed as he watched Christian walk away from him. How dare he! Syed was happy with his marriage. He _was_. How _dare_ Christian imply otherwise. It would serve Christian right if he went straight home and took Amira up to the bedroom for some really good sex. Then he'd be sorry. Yes, that's what he would do. Right now. Right after he told Christian how wrong he was.

He stalked after Christian, running a little as Christian reached his door, catching it as it closed and pushing in behind him.

"What the hell?"

Syed pushed Christian back onto the stairs, pressing him down with his own body. "Where do you get off telling me what I feel? I'm _happy_, dammit. _**Happy, **_okay?"

Christian slammed him back against the closed door, leaning close. "Fine. You're happy. I'm happy you're happy."

Syed licked his lips. Tasting Christian's breath against his mouth, a thousand butterflies fluttering in his stomach, clogging up his lungs and leaving him panting.

Christian turned from him, starting up the stairs. Syed followed, tackling him into his living room.

"Don't walk away form me!"

"Bloody hell, Sy, what's wrong with you?"

"It's all your fault. Everything. All of it's you. You're always _there_, looking at me, and…and being so…so _there_ all the time, getting under my skin and making me feel everything I shouldn't, and I can't, Christian, I just can't."

Christian got up, hauling Syed up with him, shaking him. "What is it you want from me? You say we can only ever be friends, so okay, I hate it, but I agree because it's what _you_ want. You say you want to move on, make your marriage work, I wish you well. It kills me, but I love you and I want you to have what makes you happy, so I try. I try to be your friend. Be supportive. I try to let you go, but you _won't bloody leave_! You say _I'm_ always there? Well, what about you? Every time I turn around, there you are, staring, and…and _so, so sad_. Do you honestly think I don't notice how miserable you are? I know you, Sy. I know that nothing is how you want it to be."

"No, that's not true. It's working. Me and Amira, we're trying for a baby."

"And what will that solve? You'll still be gay, and you'll still be in love with me."

"No. I love _Amira_. I don't…I…I have to leave."

Christian caught hold of his wrist, swinging him around, throwing him down onto the table. Syed propped himself up on his elbows, eyes huge, staring at Christian. Christian stared back, breathing hard.

They lunged at each other, clutching, stroking, crushing. Christian moved them back until Syed's legs hit the table. Christian bent him back, sweeping aside papers and mugs and magazines with an urgent arm. Syed gasped as he lay back, writhing against Christian. "Ow. Sugar."

Christian, nuzzled at his neck, nibbled along his jaw, "What?"

Syed hooked a leg over Christian's hips, pressing him closer. "Sugar, I'm sitting on the sugar. Not comfortable."

"Sod the sugar." Christian lifted him, reaching under for the sugar bowl and throwing it aside.

Syed caught hold of Christian's short hair pulling his head up and latching onto his lips "You'll never get that out of the carpet."

Christian sucked his ear into his mouth, bit down. "Don't care."

Syed yanked Christian's T shirt over his head, running his hands over his chest, dragging his nails down his back, fingers dipping under the waistband of his jeans. "Oh god, Christian, please."

Christian raised his head, staring solemnly into Syed's eyes. "You're sure?"

"_Yes_." He pressed his mouth to Christian's, tongue invading, striving for possession. Christian, so long denied, reciprocated wholeheartedly. Nothing soft or romantic in his kiss, only heat, and passion and an intensity of love that sent liquid fire coursing through Syed's veins.

Syed shuddered as Christian ripped open his shirt, kissing and licking down his chest, flicking one erect nipple then sucking on the other, moving back up to his face, kissing his mouth, his eyes, his cheeks, his nose, then back to his mouth. Kissing until Syed could stand it no more.

He tugged at Christian's jeans, clumsy with desire, pushing them down over Christian's hips, hooking his thumbs into the band of his briefs and pushing them down too. Christian did the same for him, so frantic that Syed's jeans tangled at his ankles. Christian swore, yanking at them, nearly pulling Syed off the table and making him giggle.

As Christian knelt to free Syed's from the twisted mess, Syed raised himself a little to openly study Christian's body; the strong, muscular back, the smooth, sculpted buttocks and the long supple legs. God, he was gorgeous. "God, you're gorgeous."

Christian raised his head to grin briefly at him, then lunged up to cover him, devouring his mouth with an all consuming hunger.

Syed wrapped his newly liberated legs around Christian's back, clutching at his shoulders. Their bodies meshed perfectly, moving together with instinctive harmony.

Christian reached for the butter dish that had survived the carnage of the table sweep. He scooped some up, running his hand along Syed's buttocks to his opening, stroking it lovingly, preparing him.

Christian caught hold of Syed's hips, moving him into position as he entered him slowly. Syed arched backwards as Christian held him, rocked back so that they could kiss to the rhythm of Christian's pumping strokes.

Syed cried out, screaming Christian's name over and over as he came against Christian's stomach. Syed's buttocks clenched as the orgasm shuddered through him, the pressure all it took to send Christian over the edge, moaning into Syed's mouth as the climax hit him.

They slid off the table, collapsed together in a tangle of limbs. Christian wrapped around Syed, stroking his back soothingly as Syed quivered in his arms. Christian ran a hand through Syed's hair, grasping his head and tipping it back so that he could look into his eyes. "What now, Sy, what happens now?"

"I don't know. Oh god, Christian. I don't know."

The end.


End file.
